


Their Guilty Party

by ColoredCrystalCinnabar



Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616
Genre: Alcohol, Blood, F/M, Guilty Pleasures, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex, bad decisions all around, unprotected sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-06
Updated: 2017-06-06
Packaged: 2018-11-09 16:13:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11108154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColoredCrystalCinnabar/pseuds/ColoredCrystalCinnabar
Summary: Bobbi Morse, while struggling with leftover emotions from her divorce, attempts to blow off some steam by sparring with the Taskmaster only for things to get steamy in an unexpected, guilt-ridden way.





	Their Guilty Party

“He always did trying to make me feel guilty,” Bobbi Morse muttered to herself, doing her best to push down memories of her ex-husband with a bottle of tequila. At this point, it had been so long since they had been together that she usually had no trouble dealing with pesky old memories. Tonight, however, they had set upon her with a vengeance, and she was starting to get restless. She hated having time off with nothing to do.

She downed another shot of tequila. How many had that been now? She was definitely starting to feel it, but the memories hadn't gone away. Emotions of love and pain and desire and anger continued to bubble to the surface. She decided then that she’d need to deal with her frustrations the way nearly any SHIELD agent would: combat practice.

In her now solidly inebriated state, she suited up and grabbed her batons before making her way down to the training bay. It would be completely deserted at this late hour, and she was looking forward to hitting something in solitude.

When she arrived, however, she saw that the ‘something’ she might hit was actually a someone.

The Taskmaster, a hired mercenary whom SHIELD had recently “acquired” for double-agent work, had made himself at home in the facility. Being a costumed villain-type gifted with what he called photographic reflexes left him with a thirst to constantly better his skills, if only in order to make more money. Therefore, he could usually be found training endlessly.

‘Something to note. Can't count on this place being empty after hours,’ Mockingbird thought to herself as she approached the man. The Taskmaster was going through various martial arts forms, some she had seen and some that were less familiar to her. He paid no attention to her as she neared him, almost as if he hadn't noticed her at all, but she knew better.

“Barbara Morse. Mockingbird,” he began, keeping the gaze of his skeletal mask forward as he continued going through forms. His white hooded cloak flowed around his body with every calculated turn. “What brings you down here, huh? Gonna take me out with them sticks 'a yours before Coulson and Hill send me on my first mission?”

Not wanting to admit the real reason she came down here, she played it cool, hoping it wasn't too apparent that she wasn’t in the best state.

“Tony Masters. The Taskmaster. If we’re going to be working together, I want to see what you've got. I make it a point to know what my teammates are bringing to the table. I….need to know I can count on your skills if things go south.”

“Oh, I got more’n enough skills for you, sweetheart, especially when it comes to going down south” he replied lewdly, eliciting an eye roll from Mockingbird.

The two faced each other in the center of the padded floor, her eyes meeting the unwavering gaze of his skeletal mask. After a brief moment of silence, they began their sparring match. She charged first, testing the waters with a couple quick blows that he deftly blocked.

It didn't take long into their sparring for Tony to notice that something was off about his opponent. He had seen plenty of footage of her during her superheroing days on the West Coast B-Team, and he gleaned what he could from more recent newsreels and internet videos. She was a skilled fighter, but right now her balance was erratic, her gaze was always a bit out of focus, and she fought with anger. Anger towards whom, he didn't know. When she came in close for another round of strikes, he dodged the first few and then caught her by the wrist, using his other arm to block her last attack. At this close proximity, he could smell it.

“You… You been boozin’ it up!” Taskmaster exclaimed, a hint of amusement mixed in with his Bronx accent.

“It's my day off,” she retorted, attempting to knee him in the side. He let go off her wrist and instead wrapped his arm around her leg, nullifying her knee strike. With her hand now free, she quickly jabbed him in the side with her baton, a solid hit. He grunted but ignored it, however, too focused on her face.

She was so close to him now, pressed up against him as she leaned on him for balance. He saw that her beautiful eyes were now tinged with redness. If he didn’t know any better, he’d guess she had been upset before coming down here. Instead of lifting her leg up higher to throw her down onto the mat as he normally would, he released her leg and placed his hands at her sides to help hold her steady.

“What’re you doin’, coming down here to pick a fight when you’re all tipsy, huh? Go on, doll. Get outta here.”

“I can't. I can't stand to go back to my quarters. There's nothing there. No one.”

Something about the way she said it, the look in her eyes, made Tony hesitate. She was a knockout, for sure. Gorgeous, even after a few drinks. And she looked so vulnerable. This had trouble written all over it. Should he just leave? Would she be alright?

“Shit…” He saw it before he felt it. A deep gash that had been in his side for only a handful of days had been reopened by her last strike, hot blood already beginning to seep out into the fabric of his body suit.

“Oh no. I-I’m sorry,” she said, noticing the blood. She left his side and quickly ran over to the nearest first aid kit, wobbling a bit as she returned.

“Ah, don't bother. It's nothin’. Just’a scratch.” Despite his words, she motioned for him to sit down on the floor mat. Knowing full well he could patch it up better on his own, he complied with her request anyway.

He threw his hooded cloak off, tossing the mass of fabric to the side, and she helped him undo the fasteners in the back of his body suit, not that he needed her help, but she seemed insistent.

He pulled his white leather gloves off and slipped his muscular arms out of his sleeves, allowing her to push the rest of the body suit down to his waist.

“I’m tellin’ you, it's nothin’.” He leaned back, looking down at the deep cut in his side. It was healing nicely, but had only closed up the other day.

“It’s the least I could do.” Bobbi cleaned the cut easily enough, taking note of the numerous scars all over his chest and abdomen. His very muscular chest and impressively toned abdomen, she also noted.

When she was finished, she smoothed her hands over the fresh bandage, admiring her handiwork, and she couldn't help but notice how her hands stayed there just a bit too long, her fingertips pressing gently into his warm skin. Just as she began to pull her hands away, however, his own strong hands reached out and held hers.

“Thanks,” he said, his voice too steady for her to discern any obvious emotion he might be feeling. He paused a moment before asking in a hushed tone, “Why’d you really come down here? Are you lookin’ for somethin’?”

She looked up to his skeletal mask, wishing she could take it off to see what his face could tell her, to see what he might be feeling.

She might have made a micro-movement as if to grab it - she wasn't sure - but he beat her to it, as if he could anticipate what she wanted. He guided her hands up to his mask and allowed her to slide it up over his face and remove the skull head cap entirely.

‘Oh no,’ she she thought, ‘He’s good-looking.’ That was unexpected.

He looked at her with dark eyes, matched with a head of even darker hair and a strong jawline. His expression was focused, pensive, as if he was studying and analyzing every feature of her face.

“Mockingbird…”

“Taskmaster.”

“I don't need heightened perception to see that you’re hurtin’. Y’look like you could use some company.”

In this moment of weakness, with her inhibitions smothered by the tequila and the warm presence of a rather handsome man, she took all of the thoughts telling her to get up and leave and she threw them out the window.

“What was that you said earlier about having skills while going ‘down south’?”

* * *

 

“Oh, yes! Yes!” She cried out, back arching with the sudden intensity of pleasure that began spreading through her core. He pressed his tongue up against her clitoris expertly, knowing exactly how much pressure and motion it would take to pull such sensual sounds out of her. He had laid his large white cloak out on the padded ground to give her something softer to lie on.

The sounds she made coupled with the sight of her completely naked and squirming under his touch were driving him wild. He let out a low groan, caressing her leg and stomach with one hand while his other hand slid beneath the small of her back, supporting her arched back. He pulled her up closer to his hot mouth as he quickened the pace of his efforts, his tongue circling and licking steadily faster.

“Oh my god! Oh my god!” She reached down to run her fingers through his thick hair, moaning more openly with each passing second.

He didn't let up. There was no hesitation, no sign of reluctance on his part to pleasure her this way. He opened his eyes briefly to look up at her lustily before sucking on her clit with just the right pressure and tempo.

“Ooooh, yes…! That's so good!” She cried out and looked down at him, face flushed with building pleasure.

He paused his attentions just long enough to shoot her a soft grin. She rested her head back on his shield, their makeshift pillow, but her moment of respite was short lived.

His caressing hand found its way down to the opening of her vagina, now hot and wet from anticipation. Without warning, he steadily pressed two fingers deep inside of her.

“Oh god!” Her eyes opened long enough for her to gaze down at him as she sat up slightly before her body unfurled back down, her torso twisting in mounting pleasure.

Seeing her that way, mouth opened from a surprised moan, hair disheveled from tossing her head from side to side… He couldn't help but let out a groan from his own increasing arousal.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” he said breathily, the heavy lust in his voice only slightly masking his distinct accent. He dipped his head back down to continue pleasuring her with his tongue, only now he stroked his fingers up against that deliciously receptive hot spot inside of her. Every new curling stroke made her moan louder and louder until he could feel her legs shaking against his shoulders.

“Oh, yes! Yes! I-! Oh my god! Damn it, I'm so close! I’m going to-!” There was a second’s pause in her moans before her entire body tensed. He could feel her inner muscles pulsating around his fingers as she came, her moans rising into one long cry of ecstasy. He eased the pressure ever so slightly while she continued to orgasm, her thighs pressing up against his head like a vice before releasing as her entire body relaxed.

She whimpered slightly, amazed at how sudden and intense her orgasm was, how easily he got her there. He pulled his fingers out of her gently, slick and glistening with her natural lubrication.

Instead of moving up to meet her, however, he stayed down where he was, kissing her inner thighs and running his hands down her long legs, delighting in how they would occasionally twitch as she came down from her carnal high.

A few minutes passed, filled with nothing but her heavy breaths and the soft sounds of his lips kissing her skin.

She could feel the reality of what just happened start to sink in. He could tell from the way her shoulders tensed and the way her breath changed that she was starting to think about it too much. Just as she was about to say something, however, she interrupted herself with a startled cry.

His mouth was back on her again, tongue suddenly stroking her still sensitive clit with the same steady veracity as before.

“Damn it! I can't-! Oh my god!”

He wrapped his strong arms around her legs to hold her in place as her body snaked wildly. A deep groan rose from his chest and reverberated into her while he continued sucking and licking mercilessly.

Her body still on fire from before, she found that she was already on the plateau of pleasure, much more easily pushed closer to climax. It didn't take long before she was crying out again, grasping at his hair and arching her back.

Her long, full cry of climax sounded slightly pained, this second orgasm feeling far more intense than the first. Her body shook and her mind went blank, unable to recall exactly what horrible things she might have called him during her fit of passion.

When she stilled, whimpering in soft sobs, he sat up fully and smiled, taking in the sight of her.

“I’m going to kill you, Taskmaster…” she said, her eyes opening slightly as she placed her hands on her chest to feel her own wildly beating heart. He chuckled before sitting up on his knees, reaching back to pull off each boot and toss it to the side.

“I’m sure you will, babe.” He reached down then to undo his tactical belt, watching her subtle movements the whole time.

“I can't believe I’m doing this,” she thought outloud, a confusion of feelings lacing her words. She decided then that she could never admit to having done this, and shuddered to think of any number of advanced tracking and monitoring nanotechnologies SHIELD might have implanted into their bodies. If anyone ever found out...

“What, y’can’t believe you’re givin’ it up to a schmuck like me?” he asked, flashing her a charming grin.

'Well, yes,’ she thought to herself in an uninhibited haze, ‘But… why not see what else he’s good at?’

Without a word, she sat up with renewed vigor and went to work helping him remove his belt, stripping away the rest of his body suit.

* * *

 

“Fuck,” he muttered, groaning and letting his eyes close as he felt himself sink into her. So hot and tight and wet and everything he wanted... He gripped her hips with his strong hands, angling himself just so before he began thrusting into her purposefully.

She grasped at the white fabric beneath her hands and knees, moaning loudly. She let her head tilt forward, her long blonde locks cascading down around her like a curtain. She kept her eyes closed, relishing in the satisfying sensation of being filled so deeply, so primally.

She felt herself arching upwards and moaning louder with each thrust he made. He lifted a knee up off the ground, changing the angle, and he groaned as he picked up the pace. His breathing was forceful but controlled, knowing exactly how much energy he should save. Experimentally, he slid a hand up her back and slipped his fingers through her hair, clasping her long strands near the scalp and pulling back slightly. The briefest grin lit his face, and he licked his lips when he heard the loud moan a little hair-pulling coaxed out of her.

He reached down with both hands to pull her up towards him, impressed with the flexibility of her arched back. He wanted to see her, to see her face as she took him in. She leaned back against him, but she wouldn't turn back to face him.

Before she knew it, he was standing, pulling her up to her feet. Not giving her enough time to protest, he spun her around to face him. She laid her hands on his chest, resisting the urge to melt right into him, and he suddenly lifted her up as if she weighed nothing at all.

“Put those nice legs a’ yours to work,” he said playfully, and she instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist.

Using his powerful arms, he guided himself back into place and held her so that she was leaning back slightly. She wished she had a table or a bed to reach back to support herself on. All she could do was hold on tightly to his muscular arms, supported only by the strength he had to hold her up and the tightness of her legs wrapped around him.

Despite herself, she looked up into his dark eyes and let out a moan at the sudden, overwhelming feeling of him pushing himself back inside her, letting gravity help impale her down onto him.

He gazed hungrily at the sight her being taken this way and he reveled in it, moaning deeply with each controlled thrust. He would have felt even more exalted had he know just how dominated she felt, but she would never admit it. Instead, her cheeks and chest flushed with a reddened glow, and her heart raced wildly. She could feel him thrusting even deeper inside of her, stroking against her spot again and again.

“Ooohh! Uuhhhn! Y-Yes! Right there! Right there!”

He was far from finished. Carefully, with controlled movements, he held her with one arm while he used the other to lift her leg up to rest against his chest, easily switching arms to bring up the opposite leg until both of her feet were on either side of his head. He held her up with both arms, keeping a strong and practiced balance. She reached up and held onto his powerful shoulders, her limber body bending at the waist while her legs pressed against his tall frame.

He started his thrusting again, and this time, he couldn't help but moan along with her. This new position made everything more intense for the both of them, and he couldn't resist leaning his face against one of her legs, kissing her skin and groaning.

She tilted her head back slightly and moaned in time with him, her nails digging into his shoulders. Her cries grew louder with each press of himself up against her inner wall, and soon she could hardly take it anymore.

“... T-... Tony! Oh my god, Tony! Yes! Yes!! You're going to make me come again!”

He was ecstatic. She screamed his name. His real name. Her voice never sounded so beautiful. He held her tighter, picking up speed and gazing into her eyes lustily.

“That's right, baby. Come for me.”

That's all it took, and she felt her insides pulsate and melt as she came hard all around him, crying out in moans and sobs. She felt her body shaking once more, her eyes forced closed by the deep waves that came over her.

Her orgasm pushed him that much closer, and there was something about the sight of her and the sound of her screaming his name wantonly that made him weak. He knelt down, bringing her to rest once more on his sprawled-out cape while he remained inside of her.

Now kneeling, he wrapped his arms around her closed legs, and he continued to thrust himself into her quivering body, encouraged by her moans of continued bliss.

“Bobbi! … Oh fuck, yes! Mmmmm! Fuck! Bobbi… your little pussy… feels so fucking good!”

He moaned openly and closed his eyes, letting his own orgasm finally wash over him. His previously even pace slowed to a handful of powerful thrusts, his body going through the motions to pump every last bit of himself into her.

Tony released his embrace of her legs and eagerly lied down next to her. He sprawled out on his back, smiling absently in his naked glory. He stared up at the various support beams of the training bay ceiling, his arms resting behind his head.

Bobbi, on the other hand, pulled the edge of his large cape up to cover herself silently, awful clarity already returning to her sobering mind.

‘Oh shit,’ she thought to herself, panic seeping in at the realization of what they had just done, of what she had let him do to her, completely unprotected. Instead of panicking, she decided, for her own sanity, that she would worry about one thing at a time.

Meanwhile, Tony continued to feel immensely satisfied until his expression shifted. The slight grin faded and he felt this subtle, creeping feeling well up in his chest: a feeling of guilt. He couldn't quite place it, but he felt a pang of guilt that told him he had just done something terribly wrong.

But why? He sat up, eager to busy himself with something, anything, until the nagging feeling passed. He figured he might as well get dressed before someone waltzed in and caught them in bed together, so to speak.

“Surprised no one heard us, with all the noise you were makin’.” Tony’s voice cut like a knife through the still air, and the newly disrupted quiet only seemed to emphasize just how loud they had been before.

Bobbi had felt the warmth of his body leave her side as he rose to his feet. She closed her eyes and sighed, internally praying that no one had heard them.

She sat up then, still covering herself with his cape, and she noticed that he was humming something. He was already in his full body suit, sliding his feet into his boots while he hummed some song she was only vaguely familiar with. Some Beach Boys tune or something.

“Gonna need that cape, doll,” he said, holding her own bodysuit out to her.

She took it from him, and in a few moments, they were both fully dressed, except he had yet to return his mask or hood to their places. Bobbi found herself wishing he'd put his mask back on, so she could go back to simply being annoyed with him and forget all about how those lips felt.

She shuddered, growing more and more overwhelmed with shame, and she picked up her two batons. Turning to face him with urgency and a grave intensity, she began with, “Taskmaster, if you ever-”

“Aw, don't worry, Bobbi,” Tony held a hand up, trying to reassure her, “Even if I told any ’a the guys about this, they wouldn't believe me.”

“What?”

“Sure! A classy little bird like you givin’ a guy like me the time 'a day? No way anyone’d believe that. So, yeah, your dirty little secret’s safe with me, babe. Promise.”

She studied his face, and she thought she could see a hint of sincerity in his eyes. That would have to be good enough for her.

“Damn it,” she muttered, looking up at one of the security cameras, “I forgot the cameras. Brooks is on monitor duty.”

“Eh, well, good for him. Got himself a free viewing of our private little party.” Tony straightened out his cloak before placing the skull cover back on his head, sliding the mask down to conceal his face. Much better.

“No,” Bobbi insisted, stopping him in his tracks with the tip of her baton against his chest, “You're going to help me get that footage.”

Tony was silent for a moment before letting out a sigh, pulling his hood back up over his head.

“Y’know, Bobbi, I’ll never understand why a gorgeous broad like you decided to tie one on with me, of all people, but… I guess I owe you, so... OK, sweet cheeks. Sure. Let's go visit your buddy Brooks.”

Agent Brooks didn't stand a chance. Somehow, to the amazement of the Taskmaster, Mockingbird was able to convince the young man to leave his post to help fix some annoying TV problem in the common room or whatever little line she spun to him.

“I gotta admit, th’ girl’s got charm,” Taskmaster said quietly as he slipped into the security surveillance room and went to work finding their homemade tape of sorts. The system was a cinch to navigate, nothing he hadn't seen before, and he quickly ripped the footage and looped what he could to cover the missing time.

In a few moments, he was out of there and meeting up with Mockingbird in a predetermined, appropriately dark corridor.

“One sex tape, as ordered,” he joked, holding up the small USB flashdrive when he saw her.

“Great. I’ll take that.” Mockingbird held out her hand to receive it, but as she feared, he hesitated.

“Say, before it’s destroyed… You wanna watch it?”

“Ugh.” She snatched it from his gloved hand and held onto it tightly. She went to turn and walk away, but paused, a wry smirk forming on her lips. She glanced over at him with a playful look. “Maybe one last go…”


End file.
